


Choices

by LeChatRouge673



Series: Canon Verse Stories and Wanderings [10]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-25 23:27:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18711838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeChatRouge673/pseuds/LeChatRouge673





	Choices

Who was it that had once told her ‘you can never go home again’?

Cataline had never really understood what those words had meant until the day she had finally returned to Castle Highever. Whatever this place was not… it was not home. It had ceased to be home the day Duncan had dragged her away from her doomed parents, having offered her the starkest of choices. Which is to say, not a choice at all. Even now, she still bore the guilt of having abandoned them, even though she did not regret where her life had eventually taken her. Perhaps she might have resented Duncan and his illusion of choice more had her path not led her to Amaranthine.

She wished she could pretend that it was the guilt or any of the other myriad competing emotions of grief and rage and heartbreak that had kept her away for so long, but she knew that was not entirely true. Partially, certainly, that was true. There were moments when she found herself clutching her chest, unable to breathe as she traced the steps she and her mother had taken that night. Even after thorough scrubbings and abundant foot traffic, there was still the occasional faint blush of blood against stone, a muted reminder of what had been lost. Cat had refused to set foot in her old rooms, or the rooms where any of the bodies of her family had been found.

No. Highever was not home anymore. And it never would be again.

Vigil’s Keep might be home, at least for the time being. If she wanted it to be, Cat knew that Montsimmard could be home too. Thea and Loghain would have welcomed them into their home without question. Void, she could have even stayed in Denerim, working at the side of her friend and queen, Anora. But at the end of the day, home was never going to be a physical place. It was with Nathaniel. Her husband; the love of her life. The real reason she had delayed coming back to Highever for so long.

It had taken her a full month before she had found the courage to tell her brother about her elopement. The answering letter she had received had been so full of hurt and anger and bitterness that she had not attempted to write again for some time, and she did not dare tell him what their cousin had done. It was not until several weeks later, when a second, far more contrite letter had arrived at the Vigil that she has put pen to paper again.

As overjoyed as they had been to learn of each other’s survival, Fergus was still not enthused that his younger sister had picked up where she had left off with Nathaniel, who he now considered as much his mortal enemy as Nathaniel’s father. It had taken several more months of pleading, arguing, and finally the outright threat of never speaking to him again before Fergus had finally relented. He had invited Cat and Nathaniel to Highever for a visit and, though many wounds were still fresh, Cat had agreed. She felt as though she owed her brother, and the memory of their parents, that much.

The two men had been coolly polite towards each other, at first. As teyrn of Highever Fergus had the advantage, and they both knew it, but his greeting had been civil enough. But unlike Cataline, Fergus had inherited the famous Mac Eanraig temper just like Thea had, and it had not even taken a full day before he was badgering Cataline about the ‘wisdom’ of her marriage and the ‘consequences’ of such a union. Nathaniel, of course, had spoken up to defend her, and the evening had devolved into an epic shouting match that ended only when Cataline herself stood up, neatly laid her napkin on the dining table, and left the room with silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

Now she was tucked away in a hidden corner of the battlements, shivering against the night cold and clutching her knees to her chest as she sobbed. She ought to have known this would never work. Fergus had, perhaps, lost the most of them all. It would be difficult for Cat to fault him for wanting to have someone, anyone, to blame for that loss. She had taken vengeance on Rendon Howe, and his youngest son was dead. That left Nathaniel. Her husband.

She would  _not_  give him up. Not again.  _Never_  again.

The soft fall of footsteps on stone alerted her to the approach of someone intent on disturbing her sulking. The guard did not usually patrol this particular niche, though she had no idea what additional security measures had been enacted following the massacre. More likely it was Fergus, one of only two people who knew about her secret seclude. “Go away, Fergus,” she snapped in a rare show of temper. “I am not speaking to you now, and at the moment I am not certain I will ever be inclined to again.”

“Guess again.”

Nathaniel’s quiet, patient voice demolished the walls her seething anger had thrown up around her heart. As he sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms, she broke down into a fresh wave of sobs, burying her head against his chest while he stroked her hair and whispered quiet reassurances. Cataline was not able to speak for what felt like an age, but she knew he would not ask her too.

“How did you find me?” She finally sniffed, accepting his proffered handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes. “Only Fergus and Thea ever knew I came up here. Not even… not even mother or father knew. It was where I escaped when things became too overwhelming.”

“Fergus told me,” he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “When you walked out he looked as though you had slapped him in the face, but I suspected you need a few moments to yourself to work through your feelings. Still, I think he felt a bit guilty. He told me where I would probably find you.”

Cat gave a breath of strained laughter. “You know me well, my love. I should not have walked out on you, though. I was half afraid I would come back in and find you two dueling to the death.”

“I could take him,” Nathaniel informed her, and she actually laughed then.

“I have no doubt, but I am still glad I did not have to plan yet another funeral.”

“I don’t know,” Nathaniel mused, “Have you told him about Thea, yet? That might well be enough to send your poor brother to an early grave.”

Cat blanched slightly. “No. I am leaving that up to her.”

Nathaniel nodded his head against hers. “Probably for the best.”

They sat there quietly for a while, staring up at the night sky and listening to the muted sounds of the night watch and pond frogs and the bats that darted over their heads. Finally, Cataline breathed a long sigh and tilted her head up so that she was could look Nathaniel in the eye.

“You know I love you more than anything, right? At the end of the day, I do not give a damn what my brother says. I am yours. Always.”

“I am yours, Wildflower. I love you. Always, forever. I love you…” he whispered as he held her close, the words disappearing against her lips as he leaned down to kiss her.

“I love you.”

 


End file.
